


Lucky

by Mockingdragon



Series: The Falls [2]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26850835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingdragon/pseuds/Mockingdragon
Summary: Mikan never thought she'd be so lucky as to have a girlfriend, let alone one as powerful and popular as Junko Enoshima. How did such a dream turn into such a nightmare?Chronologically the first in The Falls - how Junko could have corrupted each of the Remnants of Despair one by one
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Tsumiki Mikan
Series: The Falls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525022
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Lucky

The grounds of Hope’s Peak Academy buzzed and crawled with students, teachers, parents, and talent scouts for its annual Sports Festival. For once, the hallowed halls were open to the public to watch the escapades of the most talented students across the country. While the Reserve Course students came together into teams for basketball, baseball, football, track, swimming, and more, the appropriately physical Main Course Ultimates were each showcased with their own exhibitions.

The rest of the Main Course students were left to their own devices. For Junko Enoshima, that meant a series of overly energetic flips and spins on the large trampoline that left her sprawled on the ground with her ankle at an angle. Now she held it out in front of her, mumbling curses as she leaned on her sister’s side and hopped along.

“Dammit, what the hell. This is so stupid. I should sue the fuck out of this place.”

Mukuro smiled weakly and took the brunt of Junko’s weight. “Come on, Junko. It’s not that much farther to the infirmary. Class 77 has an Ultimate Nurse on duty, you’ll be fine.”

“Give me an Ultimate Time Traveler so I can tell myself not to do that,” Junko grumbled all the way down the hallway, but eventually arrived at the infirmary door.

Inside, the nurse had her back to the entrance and was finishing the tie on a bandage around a boy’s leg. She helped him to his feet and slowly walked him toward the door. “There…don’t work it too hard, or you’ll have to come back.” Her voice was high and small, but with confidence in her one field of expertise. A roughly cut waterfall of straight black hair fell over a pink nursing outfit. When she finally turned around, Junko tilted her head to better stare at the round face and grey eyes. The eyes widened when she saw another patient, and flickered with a strange mixture of excitement and fear. “Oh! Your ankle? Here, sit down, please.”

Junko leaned on Mukuro’s shoulder long enough to slide herself onto the infirmary cot, never taking her eyes from the nurse. Once sitting on her own, she patted her sister’s arm. “OK, thanks, sis! I’ll be fine, you can go!”

“Huh? But Junko –“

Her big smile never changed, but Junko’s eyes flashed with the intensity of an order. “I said. I’ll be fine.”

Mukuro followed Junko’s gaze to the back of the nurse’s head, and nodded in understanding. “Okay, I’ll check on you later.”

The nurse turned around, armed with a metal tray of supplies to set Junko’s ankle, just in time to see Mukuro leave. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I take too long?”

“What? No, I just told her I’m fine,” Junko scoffed slightly and waved her hand in front of her face to shoo the girl’s worries away. “Besides, who would miss a chance to be alone with a bombshell like you?” She added with a wink.

The flush on the nurse’s face was practically neon, and she thrust her head downward into a bow to cover it. “I…Um…h-here, just…sit still, and I’ll take care of you.” When she reached to take the shoe and sock off of Junko’s injured foot, her hands shook hard enough to vibrate up her leg.

_Oh…Oh my._

“I’m Junko. The Ultimate Fashionista,” she flexed her foot and immediately regretted it. “And the Ultimate Idiot Gymnast.”

The giggle that escaped the nurse’s mouth was high-pitched and strangled, as if it were rarely exercised. “It’s alright. You’re giving me the chance to do my job.” Indeed, before Junko even realized what she was doing, a tight bandage was holding her ankle still. Another moment passed in silence before she added, “Mikan.”

“Mikan…” Junko tasted her name and licked her lips. She felt the nurse’s fingers tremble as she secured the splint. “You’re good at this.”

“R-really?” Despite her Ultimate title, Mikan’s eyes brimmed with tears at the compliment like she’d never heard one before. “Thank you…You should be fine in a week or so, but be careful until then.”

“I don’t know…I mean, if I fuck up my ankle again, do I get to see you?”

It was a bold offer…too bold, it seemed. Mikan backed away, still on her knees on the floor of the infirmary. “Oh…y-you don’t want that, I’m sure…but if you wanted…p-please don’t hurt yourself just for me, I’m not worth that.”

“Relax!” Junko hopped off the cot and tested the splint. It was strong enough for her to walk unaided. Bummer. “It was a joke. I’m just going to come see you anyway, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” She stuck out her tongue playfully, and drew it back at the sheer terror she saw in Mikan’s eyes. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever had a secret admirer before?”

Mikan opened her mouth to answer, but the paradox stopped her before she could say whatever she had been thinking. “Y-you wouldn’t exactly be secret…but…if it makes you happy, I guess it’s okay.” The smile on her face was sun-warm and precarious.

 _What the hell happened to this girl?_ Junko took the opportunity to pat Mikan on the shoulder before she took a crutch from the stash and began to hobble back to her room. _Whatever it was…it made her so easy for me._

***

“Come on, Pig-Barf, what’s stopping you?” 

“N-nothing, nothing at all,” Mikan laughed weakly and kept a smile on her face as she wiped up the sloppy globs of milkshake that Hiyoko had spilled. Or thrown? Did it matter? Either way, she had her hips up high in the air in front of half the dining room and a wet, dirty cloth in her hand.

“See? I told you,” Hiyoko held her hand up to her mouth as she giggled, leaning toward a pair of Reserve Course girls. “You can get her to do _anything_. She’s disgusting.”

The others watched with wide eyes and began to laugh as well. One pointed and said, “Tsumiki, how about you bark like a dog?”

“Oh…well…if that’s what you like,” Mikan mumbled. Still on the floor, she leaned back so that her hips sat between her ankles and barked. When all three of them laughed, she barked louder. They looked at her with such disdain, with that now-familiar combination of pity and amusement.

But at least they were looking.

“Oh, good, the boys are here,” Hiyoko giggled again and waved. The sleeve of her traditional kimono flapped and fluttered to get the attention of her friends. “Watch this. Hey Pig-Barf, don’t you have to go throw that rag out?”

Mikan nodded and stood, picking up the napkin she’d intended to use for her own lunch. That was forgotten, now. At times like these, food was the last thing on her mind. She walked toward the closest trash can, near a knot of her classmates, breathing faster at the soft smile she got from the redhead.

And then, she slipped.

A stray drop of milkshake, it must have been, dripped off the cloth and in front of her foot. Mikan scrambled as she tried to stand, accidentally grabbing the lunch tray of a passing student. Their soda can exploded over her chest, the power from the carbonation taking her by surprise. A glob of mayonnaise from their sandwich smacked her on the cheek, and as she hit the ground her legs splayed. One piece of bread landed over her panties, and the other slapped her thigh with mustard and more mayonnaise.

Hiyoko and the Reserve girls howled with laughter. Her other classmates all turned to stare, Teruteru in particular with familiar lust in his eyes. He tried to lunge forward, but a huge hand on his back lifted him off the ground and Nekomaru began to walk him away. Ibuki laughed, but tried to muffle it at the look Mahiru gave to her.

The photographer stepped forward toward Hiyoko’s group. “Did you do this to her?” She asked, hands firm on her hips and the motherly glare in her eyes.

Hiyoko’s eyes watered. When Mahiru sighed and turned to leave the dining hall, Hiyoko chased after her. “Wait, Mahiru! Are you mad at me?”

The other students’ giggles echoed away, softer and softer until they died. Mikan’s classmates made their way toward the cafeteria line, and she moaned quietly as she started to brush the mess off of herself.

From her spot lying on the cold tile floor, a figure came into view. A familiar pink head leaned over her, the brow raised over one blue eye. “Why do you let them talk to you like that?”

Mikan blinked and ripped her eyes from the dark shadow of Junko’s panties under her skirt. She rolled up to a seat and wiped her sleeve over her face. “Like what?”

Junko began to laugh, but stopped when Mikan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “You’re joking. You’re not joking?”

“Oh, Hiyoko is just like that…I don’t mind, really,” Mikan smiled nervously. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Maybe it should!” Junko put her fists on her hips and stared down.

Mikan still hadn’t gotten up, her legs curled under herself on the cold cafeteria floor. Under Junko’s angry gaze, she shrank closer to the ground again. “I’m sorry! Do you want to see me naked?”

“I mean, if it were me, I – What?” The anger drained from Junko’s face as she processed the question.

Before she had the chance to answer, Mikan bowed her entire torso to the ground and mumbled, “Of course not, I’m sorry! You wouldn’t want to see that, and me such a mess! Oh, forgive me!”

The whispers of students around them grew louder at the display, and Junko shook the confusion from her pink head. “Look, just get up, okay?” She reached a red-nailed hand down, and when Mikan didn’t take it she grabbed the strings of the girl’s apron and pulled. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Out? Out where?” When Junko turned and strolled toward the exit, Mikan followed. A part of her thrilled with every whisper and stare as she passed the other students, in her rumpled, stained dress and with condiments in her hair. No matter how much the embarrassment hurt, their eyes on her skin and her name in their voices meant that she existed.

In the hallway, Mikan ran into Junko’s back and bounced off. Junko merely turned her head. “Which way’s yours?”

“My….my what?”

“Your room. You need new clothes. I’ll help you.” Junko began walking in a direction at random; when Mikan scrambled to lead the correct way, she sauntered around the corner like she’d meant it all along.

After she shut the door behind them, Mikan turned to find Junko staring at her, one hand resting on the door frame. The upperclassman jumped, finding nowhere to go.

“Well?”

“W-Well what?” Mikan swallowed, confused by the look in Junko’s eyes, an expression she’d never seen directed at herself before.

“You offered, didn’t you?” Junko’s smile stretched and narrowed, her teeth showing. “I wanna see you naked.”

Mikan blinked several times, her face frozen as she tried to process. “You…do? But I’m so ugly!” She suddenly became animated again, bringing her arms up to hug herself, ducking her head, her eyes watering. “You don’t have to m-make fun of me! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t…”

Junko’s long fake nails tipped Mikan’s chin up, and suddenly Mikan couldn’t speak. Her mouth was full, covered by Junko’s, kissed and held still. By the time Junko broke the kiss, Mikan could barely stand. She clung to Junko’s arm and allowed herself to be led farther into the room. Allowed herself to be stripped down to the simple cotton underthings she never bothered to worry about. Allowed herself to be sat down on the bed, and kissed and touched again…

Allowed herself to be.

***

“Hey, can I ask you to do something stupid for me?”

“Anything!” Mikan shifted herself closer under the sheet. For some reason, it felt wilder and naughtier now to be nude than while their…activities…had been going on. To linger undressed next to Junko, to savor the idleness of the moment, was bliss. For right now, she could let herself think of nothing but the beautiful woman in her bed.

“It’s really dumb, you don’t have to.” Junko tangled her fingernails in one of Mikan’s roughly chopped locks and made her sigh.

“I will, what is it?”

“Can you tell me how powerful I am?” The corner of Junko’s lip twitched and she tugged Mikan’s hair. “I know, I told you…”

“Powerful?” Mikan echoed with a giggle. “What do you mean? Like…you’re strong? Stronger than me, anyway.” She laid a gentle hand on Junko’s bicep. “Or like…a powerful person?”  
  
“Yeah…that’s it…you’re really gonna do it?” Junko blinked.

Mikan hoisted herself up so that she hovered above Junko and looked into her face. “Will it make you happy?” When the pink head on her pillow nodded, Mikan beamed. “Then of course I will! You’re so powerful…strong…regal.”

“Mmm, regal? I like regal.” Junko’s red-tipped fingers curled at the back of Mikan’s neck and tugged her downward to kiss. “Queenly?”

“Yes, Queen Junko. My Queen.” Mikan devoured the kisses offered to her, then fell giggling back to Junko’s side. Her head rested scandalously on Junko’s chest, pillowed by the soft roundness beneath the bedsheet. Responsibilities began to call at the edge of her mind – homework, studying, letters home – but Junko’s scent pushed them away. She sighed and murmured, “I feel so lucky…”

 _Ding-dong bing-bong._ The evening announcement rang through the speakers and both girls jumped.

“You sh-should get back to your room, shouldn’t you?” Mikan asked, though she clutched at her lover. “You’ll be in trouble if they find you missing…”

Junko shook her head and stretched her arms above it. “Nah. I’m roomed up with my sister, she’ll cover for me. Just say I’m in the bathroom or something if anyone does a bed check.”

“Really?” Of all the other students in the Main Course, Mikan had never heard of any sharing a room. That lack of space was the kind of thing only the Reserve Course students put up with. “You must be very close.”

“Yeah. But not this close,” she smirked and snaked her hand around Mikan’s waist, coming to rest at the small of her back. “Besides, you’ll be in way more trouble when they find me here and I tell them how this wicked older woman lured me back to her bed.”

“Junko!” They both started to laugh again and wrapped up in one another’s arms. “Then…you’re going to stay?”

“Hell yeah. If I leave, I can’t do this.” Junko let her hand wander down and pinched. The squeal that Mikan let out bounced around the room. “Damn! We’re so lucky these walls are sound-proof!”

***

“Are you ready, then? Really ready?

“Yeah. Can’t you feel it? It’s time,” Junko grinned and spread her arms wide, palms open to the world. “It’s going to be incredible. Just as soon as we –“

“Guess who!”

Junko flailed when her eyes were covered, smacking her elbow hard into the body behind her. The shriek was unmistakable, and she sighed deeply before she turned around. “I told you not to do that!”

Mikan was already on the floor, knees curled under herself and skirt flipped up. The tears welling in her eyes were familiar by now. She had shed many kinds of tears in the time the two girls had been together: tears of happy disbelief, tears of shame and humiliation, tears of deep and beautiful despair. But these were Junko’s most hated of Mikan’s tears. They were fake.

“I-I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Junko, I just wanted…” The tears flowed, big and sad. Mukuro still fell for them, stepping around her sister and reaching a hand to help Mikan stand. Junko just folded her arms in front of her chest.

“I know what you wanted, and it worked,” Junko muttered.

It was hardly the first time. In the months since they’d met and become close, Junko had become used to Mikan’s constant presence. At first, it was welcome. Whenever Junko wanted her, Mikan was there, whether to talk with, to kiss, to yell at, to scapegoat. The pair were inseparable, to both of their delight. Mikan relished the looks on her classmates’ faces when they saw Junko wrap around her and claim her mouth with kisses. Junko luxuriated in the gazes of the boys who would give up anything to be part of that kiss.

But after the first few weeks of young love, Junko had turned her mind back to her master plan. There were classes, too, chore assignments, and the basic routines of life. The first time Junko realized what was happening was when she found Mikan huddled in her dorm room, inconsolable when she couldn’t find her girlfriend at dinner. Junko had snuck away with Mukuro to the computer rooms, to test one of her myriad plans. All she told Mikan was that she and her sister had to talk.

“You know how it is with twins,” she’d winked, hoping to tease a saucy thought into Mikan’s mind to distract her. And distract her it did. A whirlwind hour later and they’d both forgotten Mikan’s strange despair.

And then it happened again. And again. When Junko decided to watch Mukuro sparring with one of their classmates instead of coming to Mikan’s room, she found Mikan waiting anxiously at the door to their dorm. When the twins went to investigate the safety equipment in the chemistry lab, they returned to find Mikan distraught, having slipped and fallen in front of her class in a typical humiliating pose. Even when Mikan was the one late to the dining hall, she sat herself in between the twins as if she didn’t realize they’d been having a conversation. Soon the pattern was clear. Junko respected how long Mikan had kept her feeling sorry instead of annoyed; much of Mikan’s distress was genuine, after all. But once the manipulation had become clear, she couldn’t see anything else.

“We’ll talk later, Junko,” Mukuro nodded to her sister and handed Mikan off. The nurse grabbed at Junko’s arm and snuggled herself against her chest, her mission a success.

“Yeah.” Junko didn’t hide her irritation as she took Mikan’s shoulders and pushed her away. “You too.”

Mikan blinked up at her in genuine confusion. “Junko?”

“I said go!” she snarled and pushed again. Mikan overbalanced and slammed to the dining hall floor on her side, somehow collecting food debris in her hair and on her dress. The chatter at the nearby tables stopped; Junko glared and one at a time each group of students decided to continue their conversation rather than stare.

“I-I’m sorry, Junko, I…I won’t…” Mikan began, but couldn’t fill in what she had done wrong. She stayed on the floor on instinct until Junko’s bright red nails closed around her collar and tugged her back to her seat.

“You will stop getting in between me and my sister,” hissed Junko, confident in her reputation to prevent eavesdroppers. In the middle of the cafeteria, they may as well have been completely alone.

Mikan’s tears welled up and spilled over her lashes, but Junko’s cold expression didn’t change. “I wasn’t–“

“Stop crying!” Junko’s fingers curled tighter still. A small, strangled noise eked out of Mikan’s throat, and she released the grip again. A small red line remained around her neck. “You think you’re so special now? You are lucky that I ever even looked at you! I could have left you friendless and alone. I should have never wasted my time chasing you!”

This time, Mikan’s frozen tears were genuine. Her eyes were too wide to spill them, her mouth half-open and unable to speak. “Junko….my, my Queen?” she tried the pet name Junko so liked to hear, and saw a tiny flash of gentleness cross that cold face. “I’m sorry. I won’t d-do anything, I’ll wait for you. When you want me.”

Junko let go with a brusque sigh that Mikan hoped hid a flare of forgiveness. “Damn right you will. I’ll see you later. _After_ I talk to Mukuro. You understand?” Mikan went to answer but clamped her mouth shut and nodded instead. “Good girl. I’ll go get you later. When I want you,” she repeated. Mikan nodded, gathered her tray, and almost mechanically walked to the exit to wait in her room. The thin, stretched-out smile returned to Junko’s face.

***

 _Just another minute,_ thought Mikan as she rummaged through another drawer. At first she had worked slowly to avoid disturbing any of Junko’s carefully organized things, but as the minutes passed she became more willing to leave a trail of unfolded clothing and open books behind her.

It wasn’t creepy at all that she was rifling through her girlfriend’s things when Junko wasn’t around. Lovers were supposed to be honest with each other, and if Junko was going to hide things, it was only right for Mikan to look. How else would she know?

 _Just this last one,_ she told herself, and sank down to her knees on the floor to better reach the bottom drawer. It was the fifth “last one” since she had realized how late it was. Junko and Mukuro had gone to spar with the karate club in the fifth-floor dojo over an hour ago and would be getting back any minute. They didn’t know that Mikan had made a spare key the last time Junko had her fetch something from the room. It was amazing what the tech kids could do with a photograph these days.

It had been weeks since their fight, and Mikan had been determined to be the girlfriend Junko wanted. But no matter how hard she worked to be quiet and small, to wait for Junko’s summons, to keep out of the way, Junko spent more and more time away from her. She and her sister conspired together, whispering that stopped when Mikan joined them. They snuck out into the school after nighttime and wouldn’t say what they’d been doing.

Junko was cheating on her. She had to be.

 _Just one more._ Mikan dove into the next drawer, haphazardly shoving a pile of shirts and blouses back into the dresser. There had to be some kind of proof in here; a photograph, a secret cell phone with texts, a pair of someone else’s underwear, anything. The more Mikan had tried to find out, the more nothing she had come up with, the more obsessed she had become.

Finally, something. Mikan pushed aside a collection of nicely folded sweaters and found that the bottom of the drawer jiggled under her rough treatment. When she removed the false bottom, a face stared back up at her. Sweaters flew through the air as Mikan shrieked and jumped back. She composed herself as well as she could and peered back into the bottom of the drawer. Aside from the very scary bear face, there were blueprints and photos, lists of equipment and names, and sheafs of paper covered in Junko’s loopy script. She sifted through the evidence, trying to figure out what it all meant.

There was a secret, but it wasn’t another girl. The blueprints showed complicated machines with pieces like “spinning blade” and “1,000-PSI vise”. The photos showed people with hideous expressions, crying or screaming in the depths of pain. In the corner of all the documents were two words: Ultimate Despair.

A sound. Mikan jumped, then tried and failed to stick the false bottom back on the drawer before the key turned in Junko’s door. She could hear the soft voices of both sisters on the other side. In nothing but sheer panic, Mikan slammed the drawer halfway closed and dove for the bathroom. Would they notice the door had been open when they left? Maybe, but not before they noticed what she’d done.

“…but Sakura has that dojo, she’d be easy to –“ Junko’s planning was cut short when she opened the door and looked inside. Mikan’s foraging was immediately obvious, and her eyes narrowed. She held one arm out to stop her sister from entering. “Someone was here.”

“What?” Mukuro peered over Junko’s arm. Her eyes widened just slightly, an incredible amount of expression for her in soldier mode. “Who could have gotten in?”

“No one!” Already pissed, Junko stormed into the middle of the room and allowed Mukuro to begin investigating.

The soldier looked carefully around herself, inspecting the door and doorway before making her way toward the more chaotic scene. “It’s not broken. Someone picked it.”

“Who would dare!?”

Inside the bathroom, Mikan cringed. Junko’s fury echoed through the dorm room. She had never intended to still be here when Junko returned, but she hadn’t imagined the raw, unrestrained anger that oozed out of her now. In the privacy of her own room, the façade of the bubbly fashionista was completely gone. The woman throwing her belongings across the room in her attempt to find clues was one who Mikan fully believed could execute the horrible plans she had seen.

When they realized that the Ultimate Despair drawer had been found, both sisters went quiet again. “Was this what they were looking for? Someone knows?” asked Mukuro.

“Not for long.” Junko could barely speak past her clenched teeth. “Not once we track them down.”

“Junko, we’re not ready!” Even with Mukuro’s full trust in her twin, it took courage to stand opposite her and face her down. “I’ll handle it, whatever it is. But we have to be more careful than ever not to attract more suspicion.”

“Fine. Whatever. I need a shower,” Junko growled and grabbed a bathrobe out of the closet.

Swallowing a cold gulp of fear, Mikan did the only thing she knew how to do.

When Junko opened the bathroom door, it was to see Mikan lying on the rug in just her underwear, her shirt and skirt thrown haphazardly to the side. She laughed weakly and murmured, “S-surprise?”

“You?” Junko’s bright eyes were wider than Mikan had ever seen. From her place on the floor she stretched out her legs and watched for a softening of the expression that didn’t come. “What are you doing here?”

“I…I thought, I’d s-surprise you and – “

“What are you doing here?” Junko slammed her hand down onto Mikan’s neck, right on the cold tile floor. Mikan shrieked but it died quickly under Junko’s grip. “You’re the one who broke into my room? You snooped through my stuff? What did you see?!”

Mikan mouthed, “Nothing,” but all that came out was a squeak. The hand around her neck loosened and she coughed. “Nothing! I’m sorry, I…I didn’t see anything!”

Across the room, Mukuro perched on top of the pilfered dresser and crossed one leg over the other. “It was all opened. She knows everything.”

“I don’t know what it means!” Mikan protested. Junko still stood above her, silently furious, and Mikan couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. “I didn’t really see anything! I don’t know what all that stuff is for…I-I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Not a thing, Junko, I promise…I’m sorry I snuck in, but I just wanted to know what you were up to…I didn’t think it was anything like – I thought…I thought maybe you were cheating on me…b-but it’s okay, I…I trust you…”

Whenever one phrase failed to pacify her lover, Mikan found another to try. But all she did was make Junko more and more angry, and less and less prepared to show mercy.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet and strained. “I really like you, you know that?” Junko murmured as she hovered over the trembling girl.

“Junko, please…”

“It’s because I like you that I’m doing this,” she barreled onward. “I actually want to keep you…you should feel lucky.”

“Lucky?”

Before she fully realized what was happening, Mikan’s underclothes were torn from her. Junko continued to speak, but she couldn’t hear. Too much of her mind was working too hard to keep herself whole. Every sensation confused her, distressed and delighted her. Was this torture? Was this love? In the months they’d spent together, Junko had learned so much – too much – about the things Mikan would never tell another soul that she enjoyed. Now all that knowledge was weaponized.

“I…I can’t…I need…stop,” Mikan whimpered. Junko ignored her.

There was no space to think. Nothing else mattered: the room around her faded into hazy nothingness; the knowledge of Mukuro watching her sister work became fuzzy and dim; the school bell ringing out nighttime barely registered in Mikan’s fighting mind. The only things she could focus on were the sensations of what Junko was doing to her. The only thing she could focus on was Junko.

It took a long, long time. Junko was honestly impressed. For a girl with so little sense of self, Mikan fought with every ounce of her brainpower to hold on to it. But Junko was irresistible. She crowded out Mikan’s thoughts with pain, with pleasure, flooding her mind until that delicate sense of self was finally crushed. Mikan lay limp on the bed, a dull smile plastered on her face.

When Junko stood to get herself into the shower and ready to sleep, a tiny, weak hand reached for her shirt. “My queen?” Mikan squeaked.

A fond smile, like you’d give to a puppy, crept over Junko’s face. “Just sleep. I’ll have so much use for you…you lucky girl.”

“Lucky,” Mikan repeated, and obeyed.


End file.
